


The S-Class Mission

by tabjoy13



Category: Naruto
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-18 04:13:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28860876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tabjoy13/pseuds/tabjoy13
Summary: A new ROOT recruit is about to learn the darkest secret of all! Cross posted on FF.net.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 6





	The S-Class Mission

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadyNoire-sama](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=LadyNoire-sama).



> LadyNoire-sama drew me a picture of this headcanon before this one-shot even existed. You can find it on DeviantArt under XIMSHOOKTX titled “The Real Secret of Danzo!”

“Captain, about this S-Class Mission we’re going on,” the new Root agent began, “what is it, exactly?”

“You will know when we get there,” the other masked ninja replied in a monotone. “As it is top secret, you should know I can’t discuss it openly until then.”

The recruit’s cheeks burned in shame. It was a rare compliment for a member of the regular ANBU to be transferred to Root, since most Root operatives were raised within the organization itself. He was relatively young, for an ANBU, but he still had a lot of catching up to do if he wanted to make a place for himself.

The pair marched deeper and deeper underground. Wherever they were going, the recruit thought, it was below even the deepest of the Foundation’s training centers. Tall staircases and endless hallways, secret doors and passwords, and they still had yet to reach their destination. The recruit was starting to entertain the idea that he’d already failed the mission somehow, and he was being led somewhere to be disposed of, when they approached a plain brown door. The recruit hardly paid attention to the knock combination that was used on the door, it was just another door in a long line of doors they’d passed through in the last hour. He’d long since lost track of all the codes he’d need to retrace the route alone.

When the door opened to an earthen-walled room lined with torches, the last thing the recruit expected to hear was, “we’re here.”

His eyes widened and he snapped to attention. There were six other Root agents inside, wearing the flat masks with random dashes of color that didn’t carry the same kind of character as the standard ANBU masks. These masks were simultaneously familiar and yet completely forgettable once they were out of sight. He had no doubt that they were designed that way. His own mask, which sported green triangles on the cheeks and forehead, didn’t look like much of anything, a lizard maybe?

As by design, the rookie’s eyes slid right over the masks of his fellows and landed on something that interested him more by far. His already straight posture tightened.

Lord Danzo was there himself! He was seated in the center of the room and glanced up at their approach. He did not rise from his seat. “Itsuki, at last.”

The more experienced Root agent got to his knees, lowering his head to the floor. The recruit mirrored him. “Forgive me Lord Danzo.”

Danzo flicked his fingers impatiently. Itsuki rose slowly. “I suppose it can’t be helped. Is this the transfer?”

Once they were both on their feet, Itsuki’s masked face turned to the younger man beside him. The gesture may have seemed welcoming if it wasn’t so robotic. The rookie stepped forward anyway.

“We will call you Arata,” Danzo assigned quickly. He seemed distracted.

The recruit shifted at the name but didn’t otherwise show his discomfort, not in front of Danzo himself.

“I assume you know, Arata, what it is to keep an S-Class secret?” Danzo continued. He met the recruit’s eyes even through the mask.

Arata nodded, although he was distracted by the other Root agents. They were moving a table over to where Danzo was seated. A white sheet covered several lumpy objects on the table.

“And what will happen to you, if you do not keep this secret?” Danzo’s eye burned into his as Arata flicked his attention back to the village elder. “You must realize that there was a reason an opening was available in this organization?”

The thinly veiled threat hung in the air. The other agents completed their objective and then stood still, awaiting their orders.

Arata swallowed and nodded again.

“Good,” Danzo said, although his voice sounded angry, “then we can get started. I’ve waited too long as it is.” He settled back into his chair, as if waiting for something.

Arata watched in confusion as the white sheet was lifted. Sitting on the table was a strange brush, a cup, a fine-tooth comb, rubber gloves, an apron, a hand mirror, several towels, a bucket of water, and a plastic hair net. He glanced at the other Root agents but they didn’t say a thing. What was this?

Itsuki stepped forward and picked up the apron, draping it over Danzo and securing it at the neck. Another agent donned a pair of rubber gloves and pulled a white tube of paste out of his pocket. He seized the cup and squeezed some dark goop out of the tube and into the cup. Several other tubes were produced from various pockets and mixed into the goop in the cup. Arata watched this operation, no less confused.

Meanwhile, Itsuki gently unwrapped the bandages around Danzo’s head and eye. Danzo kept the usually concealed eye tightly closed. Itsuki set the bandages aside and began inspecting Danzo’s head.

Danzo suddenly held out his hand. Another agent rushed forward to hand the Root Commander the mirror. “I want no mistakes this time,” he muttered. He appraised himself in the mirror critically. “I can already see the roots.”

Arata glanced around the dark, earthen walls. He didn’t see any roots at all. He was sure they were deeper underground than even the largest tree roots could grow. He was tempted to ask a question when Itsuki turned to him.

“Arata, put on some gloves and be ready to hand me the brush.”

Despite his confusion, the recruit hurried forward to comply. He snapped on the latex gloves and grasped the cup. The brush was already mixed into the goop. He gave it a tentative stir. The goop smelled horrible.

“The comb, Arata,” Itsuki requested in a monotone. He held out his hand.

Arata turned back to the table, snatched up the fine-toothed comb, and handed it to his senpai. Itsuki combed back Danzo’s hair with precise strokes, looking at it critically. Arata leaned in too, to see what Itsuki was looking at. When Arata squinted, he saw the barest hint of white at the root of each of Danzo’s hairs. Arata’s eyes widened but he clamped his mouth shut, lest he say something he’d regret.

They were at it for an hour, checking and rechecking their work. At one point Danzo barked, “be sure to work it into my scalp!” The sudden noise almost made Arata jump out of his skin. Itsuki was unaffected. He went about the business in his calm, no-nonsense way.

Itsuki asked for the brush and more dye as he went over Danzo’s scalp in a slow, orderly fashion. At one point he faced their commander, brushing over his eyebrows with short, precise strokes, before returning to the scalp. He rechecked his work twice before asking for the plastic cap. Arata complied with his senpai’s requests as quickly as he could, eager to do something to release the tension in his limbs. 

Once the shower cap was on, they waited in silence at attention. The guards, the assistants, they all stood there as if at inspection. The seconds ticked by and Arata got more and more anxious. He was ANBU, he’d taken on difficult and nerve-wracking missions before. Something about this though, it set his teeth on edge. They were doing something so simple, so mundane, and yet, it was like they were about to die at the slightest misstep or hesitation.

The recruit’s fingers tingled with the need to fight or flee. The torchlight flickered, making and remaking the shadows in the far corners of the room. They were in a rather large room for such a minute operation. 

Arata almost jumped again when Itsuki broke the silence. “That’s long enough.” They helped Danzo wash his hair and dry it, ruining the towels with the excess dye.

All the while, Danzo watched his own reflection and their efforts with the use of the hand mirror. His single eye was narrowed at them, as if expecting them to fail.

“Finished Lord Danzo,” Itsuki finally declared. Arata tried to hide his sigh of relief.

Danzo stood and gave himself one more critical look in the mirror before grunting in satisfaction. He set the mirror down and quickly re-wrapped his head in bandages. His freshly dyed hair fluffed out over top of the bandages like a patch of grass. Despite his injuries and limp, Danzo wanted to project the image of youth in every way he could.

Before leaving, the Leaf Village elder turned to Arata one last time. “You must never speak of this outside of the Foundation.” The glint in his eye made it clear that there would be no second chances.

“I understand Lord Danzo,” Arata replied with a low bow.

With that, the Root Commander strode out of the room.

Arata was still staring at the door when Itsuki began organizing the cleanup. The tools were cleaned and tucked into hidden pockets. The soiled towels, shower cap, and any empty dye tubes were incinerated with a fire jutsu in a corner. The remaining ashes were buried with a quick earth-style jutsu. It was as if nothing had happened. 

When the torches were extinguished, the guards began to leave, one by one. Finally it was only Itsuki and Arata in the dark room. Arata realized that if he didn’t ask about this now, he wouldn’t have the courage to do it again.

“Senpai,” Arata began.

Itsuki paused and looked back at Arata’s white mask, waiting for his question.

“How-” Arata stopped, not even sure how to ask what he wanted to ask. Finally he lamely stated, “I didn’t even know Lord Danzo’s hair was dyed.”

Itsuki deadpanned, “Lord Danzo is 73 years old, a peer of the late Third Hokage, and a village elder, did you really think his hair was still naturally brown?”

Arata scowled behind his mask. “If it’s not that surprising then why is it top secret? Why is dyeing his hair an S-Class mission?”

“Because people must see Lord Danzo as strong, and nothing else. Not strong for a 73-year-old, but strong, with no tags, additions or subtractions to the statement.”

“Wouldn’t it be more dignified to be honest about his age?”

“We are ninja, honesty doesn’t enter into the equation.”

With that, the discussion was over. Arata had more to say but knew he wouldn’t speak a word of it. From now on, he would silently assist with the bi-weekly missions, working to the best of his ability. He had entered the dark, silent world of the Foundation. Helping dye Danzo’s hair was the least of his concerns. 


End file.
